Dearest Kera
by Fireblade K'Chona
Summary: This is a letter from a Herald to his wife in Haven. Rather angsty. First chapter is the letter alone, second is a mini-backstory. Will remain a oneshot.
1. The Letter

I do not own. This is a oneshot, but there is a backstory in the next chapter, should you read it.  
  
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Dearest Kera,  
  
If you are reading this, it means I have died fulfilling my duty. I do not want to leave you-the opposite, I want nothing more than to come back to you, to feel your arms around me again. Know, however, that I died fulfilling my duty, the way I always wanted to go-my life for Valdemar.  
  
The Karsites are fierce warriors, hell-bent on the idea that we are demons. They again attack our land, determined to wipe us from the face of the earth. Kera, you must understand-I would give-gave-my life to my duty. When I am on circuit, I see the faces of the people. They trust the Heralds, and I would die before breaking that trust.  
  
I dearly hope that you will never have to read this letter. It tears my heart in two, writing this even now. Even Ashera's love does not help (smeared word) sorry. Even Ashera's love does not help the space in my heart only you can fill.  
  
Dearest Kera, I think of you every moment of the day and night. Know that I am watching over you from the Havens above. When the wind rushes through the grass of Companion's Field, it is my spirit whispering your name. When a cool draft of air brushes your cheek, it is my ghostly kiss.  
  
Know that I will always, always love you, Kera, and I hope you will remember me always.  
  
All my heart and more,  
  
Jereven  
  
----------------------  
  
Reviews are loved.  
  
~Fireblade K'Chona 


	2. Backstory

Disclaimer: I don't own. Yeeness. But I do own the idea for this fic. I don't know where it came from.  
  
As you can tell, I was rather short-explanationed in the last chapter. That's cause I wanted the focal point to be the letter. But here is the backstory. This will remain a one-shot with an optional backstory. What I did was write the letter, then put it on another document and wrote the ficlet around it.  
  
We're studying the Civil War in school, and right now we have to write romantic letters to the "wives" left behind. Even if we're girls. So I may just rework the letter itself to fit the assignment.  
  
Muse responsible: Scheherezade.  
  
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Herald Jereven sat crosslegged outside his tent on the Karsite Border, writing a letter to his wife, Kera, in Haven.  
  
Finishing it, he signed his name and sealed it with a glob of wax from the tallow candle beside him. Standing, Jereven carried the letter to the Messenger-Herald's box and in a low voice told the current Messenger what to do with the letter, who to give it to, when to deliver it. The Herald- Courier nodded and tucked the letter into her belt-pouch.  
  
Jereven went back to his tent, blew out the candle, and went to sleep.  
  
Several days later, the Messenger's Companion chimed into Haven, cantering through the streets, tired from the constant gallop he had kept up for the past several hours. He prodded his Chosen's mind gently-no use, she was fast asleep-  
  
The Death Bell rang somberly. The Companion's sharp ears picked it up as it tolled, the quiet night leaving the air free for the message to travel-  
  
:Chosen...you need to deliver the letter.:  
  
His Chosen had awakened at the sound of the Bell, her shoulders drooped. :Yes,: she said, simply, and left it there as they continued.  
  
Someone knocked at Kera's door. [Who could it be at this hour-] she wondered, standing and opening the door.  
  
A rather disheveled woman in Whites stood, holding out a letter to Kera.  
  
"Thank you," said Kera slowly, taking the letter. "I need to report," said the Herald, bowing to her. "My apologies."  
  
[What would she be apologizing about?] wondered Kera, bewildered.  
  
She lit a candle, sat, and opened the letter.  
  
It was from Jereven.  
  
---  
  
Dearest Kera,  
  
If you are reading this, it means I have died fulfilling my duty. I do not want to leave you-the opposite, I want nothing more than to come back to you, to feel your arms around me again. Know, however, that I died fulfilling my duty, the way I always wanted to go-my life for Valdemar.  
  
The Karsites are fierce warriors, hell-bent on the idea that we are demons. They again attack our land, determined to wipe us from the face of the earth. Kera, you must understand-I would give-gave-my life to my duty. When I am on circuit, I see the faces of the people. They trust the Heralds, and I would die before breaking that trust.  
  
I dearly hope that you will never have to read this letter. It tears my heart in two, writing this even now. Even Ashera's love does not help (smeared word) sorry. Even Ashera's love does not help the space in my heart only you can fill.  
  
Dearest Kera, I think of you every moment of the day and night. Know that I am watching over you from the Havens above. When the wind rushes through the grass of Companion's Field, it is my spirit whispering your name. When a cool draft of air brushes your cheek, it is my ghostly kiss.  
  
Know that I will always, always love you, Kera, and I hope you will remember me always.  
  
All my heart and more,  
  
Jereven  
  
---  
  
Kera did not know there were tears in her eyes until one splashed onto the paper. It was as if a floodgate was opened. Setting the letter down, Kera wept for what seemed candlemarks, days, weeks...  
  
She fell asleep in her chair, tearstains on her cheeks, her heart aching in loneliness.  
  
The dawn-bells chimed, and Kera awoke in response. She wondered briefly why she was in the chair-then remembered the letter.  
  
Slowly, her shoulders slumped.  
  
There was a note on the table in front of her. She reached for it slowly and turned it over.  
  
---  
  
Kera, Jereven's memorial service will be held today a candlemark after dawn. Come to Companion's Field. We'll find you there.  
  
---  
  
It was unsigned, but then, most Heralds knew Kera by sight. She stood and quietly walked to the wardrobe, opening it.  
  
She nearly lost control again as she saw Jereven's uniforms, hanging politely on his side of the wardrobe. Kera reached in and quickly pulled out a plain black dress-the one she had worn at her uncle's funeral.  
  
Letting her nightshirt fall, Kera pulled the dress over her head. Buttoning it, she picked up her hairbrush, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.  
  
[That will never do,] she scolded herself, [Jereven-Jereven would not want to see you this way.]  
  
Kera began to brush her hair, turning away from the mirror.  
  
The service was short and to the point, with a short speech by the Dean and the engraving of Jereven and Ashera's names on the marble column reserved for deceased Heralds and Companions.  
  
Kera then stood, and the assorted people there looked up at her.  
  
Swallowing her tears, for the moment, Kera pulled out the letter from her pocket and said, "Several days before he died, Jereven wrote me a letter..."  
  
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That was odd. I cried writing it. The focal point is the letter, as you can tell. I just added a backstory this chapter.  
  
Reviews are loved.  
  
~Fireblade K'Chona 


End file.
